


Personal Notes (13) I don't really get poetry...

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Carlos's Secret Diary [13]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, bad verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1698626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos needs a cover story for a large order of pens and pencils for the lab. Poetry week is an excellent opportunity to slip through a big order for banned writing implements. But he does try to write some poetry and sees some things more clearly as a result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Notes (13) I don't really get poetry...

**Author's Note:**

> Look, Carlos can only be as good at poetry as I am. Sorry.

I thought I could pretend to write some poems for poetry week as a cover story for ordering the number of new writing implements we need at the lab, but I decided it would be better if I didn't admit to anyone that I actually did write some. I remembered what I could of the Literature Appreciation lectures I snuck into as a student, it pays to broaden the mind, and wrote. It was kind of fun, once I got over my initial reserve, and oddly liberating. When I got stuck I could always add some science.

The postgrads must have been secretively scribbling too. I found this carefully written out with anonymised handwriting on a green paper towel and left on my desk:

  
 _The prof has got a secret love,_  
 _He thinks that we don't know,_  
 _But broadcast in the air above,_  
 _His crush's feelings show._

_We all wish Carlos had the guts,_  
 _To say that crushes suck._  
 _Hold Cecil gently by the nuts,_  
 _and ask him for a fuck._  


There was a line drawing with it, in case I wasn't familiar with basic anatomy. I decided to ignore it, if anyone asks I could say I didn't notice and put all the trash in the bin as usual. However, I will keep them all very busy for the rest of the week. 

There seems to be a theme to my own efforts. 

(1)

When I pretend that you and I are near,  
To declaration of undying love,  
And safe from harm that stalks and hunts us here,  
I shake and tremble like the leaves above,  
When warm wind makes the sentient branches wave,  
And toss with joy that you and I could be,  
So much in love that we could claim we gave,  
Each other everything we need. I see  
Those differences between us make us fit,  
Together like a co-ax cable joint,  
You chat freely while I lack the wit,  
I always struggle getting to the point.

If I could speak, my words would surely be,  
I want to hold you, take you home with me.

(2)  
To study things like how time swings  
Moments long, days fleeting,  
Is why we're here, first it was clear  
We ought to hold a meeting.

He saw me there, he liked my hair,  
He said so on the air;  
He seemed obsessed, I thought in jest  
And said it wasn’t fair.

I went straight down into the town  
to pick a fight with him.  
When I got there it took one stare  
To see I wouldn't win.  

Since that first day I’ve often lay  
Alone and thought of kissing  
the face that makes me lie awake  
He’s what my life is missing.  


I get a rush, this dreadful crush  
prevents me when we meet  
from talking sense, I act so dense  
My face a shade of beet

I want to hear that voice so clear  
All day and every night  
But heartbreak old has left me cold  
I think I have no right

To be content, my life is bent  
but angles make me stronger  
T-beams hold 'cause of their mold  
But I can't grip much longer   


I have no light or second sight  
that tells me secret meaning  
I hope that Cecil loves me too  
(this shit is so demeaning).  

I ran here from my past, in fear  
Of what has gone before  
But what I've found in this weird town  
Sure terrifies me more.

 

(3)

Ell caught me out on this one. I didn't hear her come in, the first I knew she was reading over my shoulder was when she snorted. But since she knows anyway and I was stuck for a rhyme I just added her reaction. 

Vi-o-let eyes and   
long shiny hair   
and a voice made from music and honey.  
 Smooth latte skin,  
  Oh the state that I’m in  
 Stop laughing, it’s really not funny.

I asked her about the logo I had seen part of on her computer and she pretended I had misinterpreted what I had seen. She has never treated me like I'm stupid before. I asked about her shadow figure, the constant companion she could never quite see, but apparently it has gone and she has no memory of it.

(4)  
 **C** an I get some sleep in the night,  
 **E** ver rest without waking in fright?  
 **C** os I’m going mad  
 **I** n my bachelor pad  
 **L** eft without my mister right.

(5)  
He is perfection  
to me like a tree in bloom  
I am sand and stone

(6) 

When I look at his feline smile,  
Stare into violet eyes divine,  
My heart desires to stay a while. 

Confess my love, give me a sign  
that you could love me too, my dear,  
And stay with me. But that's a line

I will not cross. Too much I fear  
The scorn of unrequited lust.  
I would sooner not know than hear

Rejection dry my love to dust,  
Your voice so sweetly turn me down  
Corrode my iron heart to rust.

We meet and I feel like a clown  
I make you leave before our time  
is up, though time's wrong in this town

I wish that I was someone bold  
Enough to let my love unfold.

 

(7)

Sometimes I lie alone and think of you,  
With slender fingers tracing patterns new,  
Caressing underneath my lab coat while,  
I hold you, kiss you softly, make you smile.

It never lasts, my devil lust will show,  
Its face and drive my quiet dream, below,  
I harden at the thought that you might touch,  
Me where I want you to, so very much.

I daydream when awake and on my own,  
That you and I are lovers, we would moan,  
And sigh as hands explore each other's form,  
Explore again with lips and tongues so warm.

When you were ready I would hold you fast,  
Naked on my bed with knots that last,  
I'd slowly suck you into raging heat,  
until you came and yelled, "fuck me, that's neat!" 

But fantasies are false and you are real,  
And I can't be quite sure of how you feel.  
The Cecil in my dreams most every night,  
Isn't really you. It isn't right.

If we have a chance, my fragile heart,  
Must get to know you truly from the start,  
Without this silly adolescent crush,  
That makes me stutter, makes my whole face flush.

So I resolve that from this point in time,  
I will not dream of anything sublime,  
No more Cecil giving sexual pleasure,  
I'll work long hours, observe and chart and measure.

I realised as I wrote this one that part of my problem communicating with Cecil is that I have built up this whole other version of him in my fantasy. He might be nothing like that, probably is nothing like that. I hope he is nothing like that, my fantasy Cecil is a bit of a slut. As entertaining as it is to think about sex with Cecil and masturbate so I sleep better, I know I shouldn't. I will stop it. I want to get to know him better. Maybe I could call him sometime, not a personal call, with more science news and we could maybe go for coffee again. Perhaps if I'm not mentally replaying scenes from my fantasy as he sits right there in front of me I'll be able to talk.

 

(8)

I asked some awkward questions 'bout  
a matter quite complex.  
You didn't want to tell me that  
our sponsor's name is Strex

Listen to Cecil while ye can  
Ell is still a-lying  
And scientists who smile today  
I don't want to think about how this one ends.


End file.
